


A Thousand Years

by DizzyDrea



Series: A Timeless Romance [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Marvel Universe Big Bang, Pining, Romance, Time Travel, Trope Bingo Round 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 21:01:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8416597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyDrea/pseuds/DizzyDrea
Summary: When the door closes and Maria goes back to her own time, Steve assumes he'll never see her again. But time travel is a curious thing, and Steve realizes that he may get his happy ending after all.





	1. Before

**Author's Note:**

> As promised, here's the sequel to I'll Be Seeing You (or maybe more of a side-quel, if you're at all familiar with [Closer's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Closer/pseuds/Closer) work). This takes in a large swathe of time, but I've tried to mark each one so you've got some context for the movies. All the thanks go to my partner in crime, [Black-Haired Demon](http://blackhaireddemon.tumblr.com/) for the fantastic art for this story. Thanks also go to [Lily_of_the_Valley](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lily_of_the_Valley/pseuds/Lily_of_the_Valley) for beta-reading this. All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> ETA: The title for this story comes from the Christina Perri song [A Thousand Years](https://youtu.be/9RbcR_KSRB8) (duet with Steve Kazee). Yes, I know. Also, it's so perfect for Steve and Maria that I don't particularly care.
> 
> Sequel (or side-quel, if you prefer) to [I'll Be Seeing You](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5219585).
> 
> Spoilers for _Captain America: The First Avenger_ and _Captain America: The Winter Soldier_ (which, if they're really spoilers, where the hell have you been?).
> 
> Also fulfills the _Free_ square on my Trope Bingo card (for the trope _time travel_ ).
> 
> Disclaimer: Captain America and The Avengers and all its particulars are the property of Marvel Studios, Walt Disney Studios, Joss Whedon, The Russo Brothers and a lot of other people who arenít me. I am doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.

~o~

1945

Steve Rogers watches the door close, feeling the click like a knife to the heart.

He stands there for long minutes, waiting, but Maria doesn't come back out. Not that he's expecting her to, but somewhere deep inside, though he's not proud of it, he's hoping she won't leave him. He knows it's foolish, though.

He also knows better than to open the door and look inside. He's not sure what he'd find if he did, but he does know he's better off believing that she arrived at her destination.

Schrödinger's cat, and all.

Heaving a heavy sigh, he turns and heads back the way they came, moving on silent feet towards the back entrance.

He wonders how he's going to explain all this to Bucky. Their conversation had been short, just Steve's intention to get Maria home. He'd known Bucky didn't believe him, but he'd had no time to explain it further.

Now he has the time, but he wonders if he has the words.

When he reaches his motorcycle, he puts on his helmet with grim determination. He's going to finish this, just as Maria had asked. And then he's going to take Peggy out for that night on the town the two of them had talked about.

He may have lost Maria, but he still has Peggy in the here and now. He's not going to lose sight of that.

~o~

He reaches the Howling Commandos' camp a day and a half later, rolling into the camp in the middle of the night. Not surprisingly, Bucky is waiting for him.

He dismounts from his motorcycle and heads for the fire. The coffee won't keep him up, and he really needs something warm right now. He feels cold down to his bones, even though he knows that's not possible.

"Everything go alright?"

Steve nods tightly. "Just fine."

Bucky stops him with a hand on his chest. "Gonna tell me what the hell that was all about?"

Steve scrubs a hand over his face, feeling the miles of grime scratch against his skin. "Yeah. But can I get some coffee first?"

"Sure," Bucky says magnanimously, sweeping his hand toward the fire and the enticing aroma of freshly-brewed coffee.

Steve heads over and nods at the men sitting there, soaking in the meager heat. He grabs a mug and pours himself a fair helping, grimacing at the bitter taste. He watches Bucky pour his own cup, then turns and heads for what he knows will be his bedroll, side by side with Bucky's. It's been like that since they were kids; no need to change that now.

Steve strips out of his jacket, leaving the uniform on for now. They'll be moving out in a few hours, so there's really no point to getting comfortable. Bucky settles across from him, cradling his mug as he lets the drink warm his hands through the tin of the cup.

"So," Bucky says, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

"So," Steve echoes. "Turns out Maria really wasn't from around here. That weird artifact she came with brought her from a different time."

"Wait," Bucky says, jaw slack. "So you're telling me that she was a time traveler? And you expect me to believe that?"

"Buck," Steve says incredulously, "after everything we've seen, how can you not?"

Bucky opens and closes his mouth a couple of times before pressing his lips together in a thin line. "Okay, fair enough. But you're sure? I mean, she wasn't a Hydra spy or something?"

"We'll know in a few hours, won't we?" Steve asks.

"That's not even remotely funny, ya little runt," Bucky grumbles into his coffee.

Steve chuckles. It's good to have Bucky to lean on through all of this. He's not sure he'd have survived this long without his best friend by his side.

"You liked her, didn't you?" Bucky asks, glancing up at him.

"Yeah," Steve says, blowing out a gusty breath. "Yeah, I did."

Bucky looks up then, eyes narrowed as if he's reading Steve like a map. "But you've still got a thing for Peggy, too." When Steve's expression goes sheepish, Bucky just laughs. "Damn, kid. I'd have never expected it from you. Me on the other hand…"

"Yeah, yeah," Steve says, now thoroughly embarrassed.

"You still gonna keep that date with Peggy, after the war?"

Steve looks up at the glittering night sky. He knows that, somewhere out there are men bent on killing them. Men who would willingly die for their principles, as warped and wrong as they may be. He can't even imagine what it'll be like to never have to worry about that again. He only hopes they all make it to the end.

"Yeah, I am," he says. "I'm gonna show her the time of her life."

"Good for you," Bucky says, chuckling. "You both deserve it."

Steve just smiles and hopes his friend is right.

~o~

Steve feels like he's just going through the motions. He knows he can't give up, because Bucky will come back from the grave to kick his ass if he does.

That thought isn't remotely as comforting as Steve thinks it probably should be.

He wishes he could still get drunk. Oblivion sounds really good right now, but he hasn't been able to since Rebirth. His body just metabolizes the alcohol too fast. Doesn't stop him from sitting in the bombed out pub and drinking a bottle of whiskey in Bucky's honor.

And to top it all off, Steve feels guilty. Not the survivor's guilt he thought he'd feel, though there's plenty of that, too. No, he feels guilty for mourning his friend when there are others who've lost people who mattered to them. He's not the only guy to lose a friend in this war; it just feels like it.

It takes four days before anyone tries to beard the lion. Steve is grateful they gave him the time, but he also knows that no amount of time will ever make the hole in his heart go away.

Surprisingly, it's Falsworth who turns up first.

He doesn't say anything at first, just sets a fresh cup of coffee in front of him at their usual table in the mess. Instead of sitting across from him, he sits beside his friend, staring off into nothing as they sip at the steaming brew. He can smell the giggle juice in Monty's cup, but knows just by the lack of that truly horrible taste that the man had forgone putting any in his cup.

Seeing as it wouldn't do any good, he appreciates the courtesy.

"Drew the short straw, huh?" Steve asks, tilting his head in Monty's direction.

Monty snorts but doesn't say anything else for several minutes.

"D-Day was a bloody awful day," he says after a time. "The worst in my life. Sword wasn't the utter hash of Omaha, but it was still bloody awful. I lost some good mates that day. A lot of people did."

"Yeah," Steve says. He takes a deep breath, locking down all the hurt and anger as he exhales.

"But you pick yourself up and you keep going," Monty goes on. "No matter that you wonder, some days, why you're even here. I keep thinking that no one would miss me, if I were to just bugger off. I don't want to die here, but I may very well do so. Too many good men have."

"If we don't fight, who will?" Steve says, cringing at how trite those words sound. It's as if he's been reduced to the campy bullshit he spouted when he was hocking War Bonds. He rubs a hand over his face. "God, that sounds ridiculous."

"It's no less true, for all that," Monty says quietly. "The only reason I get up, morning after morning, knowing full well that this day may be my last, is because I know that Hitler and Hydra must be stopped. I don't want to wake up one morning living in a world where that madman is the one I owe my loyalty to. I'd sooner step in front of the next Gerry salvo."

"I keep wondering when it'll be enough," Steve says. The admission costs him, because he doesn't want to let this war turn him bitter, but it's hard not to be in the face of such loss. "When is losing one more good man going to be enough?"

Monty sighs. "In this war, there will never be enough. The losses will continue to mount, and we'll lose more friends than this before it's over. An entire generation will be gutted by the time we march into Berlin. And whether you and I survive to the end of it will depend largely on luck. But perhaps, in the meantime, if we can help to dismantle Hydra and decimate Hitler's army, it'll be enough to see that our children and their children will never have to fight a war like this again."

"We aren't really doing this for ourselves, are we?" Steve asks.

"No, we're not," Monty says. "Our children's children will call us heroes and build monuments to us, but we'll know the truth. We were just a bunch of scared kids, fighting to stay alive just one more day."

Monty rises, laying a hand on Steve's shoulder and squeezing lightly before he takes his leave. Steve stares down into his cold coffee and wonders if maybe his friend is right.

It's not as comforting as he'd like it to be.

~o~

The village is alive with activity on the eve of the final raid. They're heading for Austria, and Hydra's main base of operations. If they play their cards right, Schmidt and his whole organization will be ended within the next 24 hours.

Steve fervently hopes this is it. He needs this to be over so that no more soldiers will live in fear of Hydra's weapons appearing on the main battlefield.

Twilight finds him in the mess, occupying a quiet corner with just his thoughts and a cup of coffee. Most everyone else is preparing the trucks for the mission, so he hasn't been disturbed in a while, for which he's grateful.

He's staring at the horseshoe nail passing between his fingers, his mind a thousand miles away. It had been poking him in the back most of the night, that night that he and Maria spent in the barn outside of Budapest. On a whim, he'd scooped it up off the floor just before they'd headed out. It's been in his pocket through battles and debriefs ever since.

It's a touchstone, of a sort. From the little Maria told him, it sounds as though the war ends better for the Allies than it does for Hitler and his cronies. It's precious little reassurance, but he'll take what he can get. At least he knows it'll end, the war. It's all he's really ever hoped for, once he got involved.

Plus, it reminds him of her, and while that's probably not wise, he doesn't want to forget the woman who passed through his world for just a little while.

"Could you use a refill?"

Steve looks up to find Peggy peering at him, a small frown marring her face. He tucks the nail back in his pocket without comment and smiles wanly at her.

"Sure, if you don't mind the company."

She settles across from him, pouring some fresh, steaming coffee from the pot she'd somehow pilfered from the kitchen. When his cup is topped off, she sets the pot aside and eyes him critically.

"Is everything alright, Steve?" she asks quietly.

He offers her a weak smile. "Sure. Just thinking."

"I can leave you to it, if you'd rather," she says.

Fresh guilt washes through him. It's true that he fell in love with Maria, fast and hard. He's sometimes amazed himself at how the feelings developed so quickly and without reservation. But somehow, his feelings for Maria didn't diminish the love and respect he feels for Peggy. It's a rare gift, and for once he doesn't want to keep it for himself.

"Please stay," he says, laying a hand over hers where it's resting on the table. "I think I'd like the company."

"Are you worried?" she asks.

"Not worried," Steve says, shaking his head. "I think I'll be glad to see this part of the war end. If we can't stop Schmidt, he'll try to take Hitler's place. Believe me, he's worse than Hitler. And that's something I never thought I'd say."

"Is it true that he was Erskine's first test subject?" Peggy asks.

Steve blows out a breath. "Yeah. He's… an abomination. Seeing him was like looking at the Devil himself."

Peggy turns her hand in his and squeezes. "Then we'll just have to see him ended, won't we?"

"I like your optimism," he says, flashing a smile.

"Anything for you, you know that," she says.

"Thank you," he says. "I appreciate that. I appreciate that you've only ever seen Steve Rogers, no matter what the package looked like."

"You're a good man, Steve," she says, squeezing again. "No matter what you look like, your heart is the same."

Steve smiles. "I'm glad you think so. Besides Bucky, it's your opinion I value the most. I'd hate to be a lesser man to you."

"That is something you could never be," she says, her smile so bright it momentarily takes his breath away. "You are a symbol to a lot of people, but to me you're a man with principles, one who isn't afraid of taking a stand on those principles when he knows he's right. That's the sort of man I want to know."

"I—Peggy," he fumbles out, but she shushes him with a quick squeeze of his hand.

"Hush. Take the compliment for what it is." She smiles at him as she rises from the table. She moves around the table and leans over to press a kiss into his hair. "Goodnight, Steve."

Steve turns to watch her go, his heart beating a mile a minute. It's not Peggy's high opinion of him that's got him all riled up. It's Peggy.

If he can be worthy of a woman like her, then maybe the future is a place he wants to be.

He turns back around, smiling down into his once-again cold coffee, and not minding a bit.

~o~

Steve stares at the picture of Peggy inside his compass, railing at Fate for dealing him such a cruel card.

He's already loved and lost one woman, and the best friend he's ever had. Now, he's leaving behind the only other woman he's ever loved. It breaks his heart to think that Peggy will mourn his passing, because he doesn't want that kind of sorrow to weigh her down. He only hopes that she'll choose to find love with someone else. He neither wants nor needs to be a specter in her heart.

If there's one thing he's grateful for, as the plane dives headlong for the ice below, it's that Maria likely already knows what's happening to him. If she didn't know before she arrived—and he's not fool enough to think she didn't know who Captain America was; she dropped enough hints in their one conversation about the future for him to believe she at least knew who he was before—she'd have looked him up after her return.

It's not much comfort, but as the icy water envelopes him, it's enough.

There are precious few who will mourn him, but only two matter. And no matter that decades separate them, he's still angry that they'll have to mourn him at all. His only hope is that they'll both find men who can appreciate them for who they are: strong, fierce women who aren't afraid of the hard jobs.

His last thought before the cold takes him is that he's been the luckiest bastard on the face of the earth to have known not one but two women like that.

~o~

2012

Standing in Time's Square, the lights and sounds a deafening roar around him, nearly shatters his soul. This is not the New York he remembers. It’s not even the New York he thought he'd see one day as an old man.

Funny that he doesn't feel old now.

There's artificial light flashing all around him; huge billboards made entirely of light with moving pictures the likes of which he could only have dreamed of before the war. Cars are flying around him, a kaleidoscope of shape and color, horns honking and drivers yelling.

At least that part's familiar.

And the people. Thousands of them, a mass of humanity, moving through the square in a seamless dance with the cars and bicycles and motorcycles all sharing the same stretch of pavement and no one's getting hurt. It's impressive, to say the least.

The man standing before him when he finally turns around is tall and muscular, a patch over one eye giving him a rakish appearance. He calls himself Fury, and Steve thinks he couldn't have picked a more apt name.

He leads Steve away, to a large black vehicle that he calls an SUV, which looks like a cross between a car and a truck. He only glimpses the driver's cockpit, too busy staring out the window at the cacophony of modern life.

They return to the building Steve was recovering in, but instead of leading him back to the phony hospital room, they head for a conference room. Someone slips him a pair of house shoes, and he smiles gratefully as he slips them on his feet.

"As I said before, Captain, a lot has happened," Fury says as they settle at the table.

Steve takes note that Fury puts himself at the head of the table, a position of power that Colonel Chester often favors.

Used to favor, apparently.

"What year is it?" Steve asks.

Fury purses his lips, giving Steve a hard stare as he apparently tries to decide what to tell him.

"Just tell me," Steve says quietly. "I know it's not the 40's. It’s not even the 50's or probably the 60's either. I'd rather know just how much time I've lost than be kept in the dark for my own supposed good."

"It's 2012, Captain." Fury says. "We won the war, and life moved on. Got involved in a few more wars, lived through the free-love-and-free-drugs 60's and 70's, overindulged in the 80's and got healthy in the 90's. It's the new millennium now, whatever the fuck that means, but you're in it."

"Current threats?" Steve asks. No matter the decade—and he'll have a nice, quiet freak out about the fact that he's been gone for 70 years later—there's always a threat. Best to know what that is up front. He'll never not be a soldier, even apparently when he's 70 years removed from his last enlistment.

"Islamic extremists," Fury says. Steve doesn't know what that is, really, but he takes it in stride. He'll have plenty of time later to figure it all out. "Home grown whack-jobs, potential alien threats. Take your pick."

Steve rubs a hand over his face. He'd hoped—they'd all hoped—that the world they left after the war would be safer than the one they started with. He should probably have known better, but there's nothing he can do about it now. This is the world he's living in, for better or worse, so he'll have to deal with it as it comes.

"We'll put you up, assign you a handler," Fury says. "Make sure you get up to speed on the world."

"And who is 'we'?" Steve asks.

"Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division," Fury says. "We just call it SHIELD."

Steve just nods. It doesn't mean much to him, but he figures not a lot will in this brave new world he's found himself in.

"SHIELD formed out of the SSR, which I'm sure you're familiar with," Fury says. He waits for Steve to nod, because that he does recognize, before he goes on. "The SSRs main brief was—"

"To acquire and deploy battlefield technology, as well as locate and take possession of any technology in enemy hands that might be used against the Allies," Steve says, cutting into Fury's monologue. "I'm familiar with the organization."

They are, after all, responsible for the man Steve Rogers is today.

"The organization evolved as the times changed, until we became responsible for much of the technology-related espionage and enforcement worldwide today, though we are still primarily a US government agency."

Which makes sense. From what little he's seen of the modern age, technology has continued to advance in his absence. He can only imagine what it's capable of, what fresh battlefield horrors await the modern soldier.

"What—" Steve pauses. He's not sure he wants to know, but he's got to ask. "What happened to me, sir?"

Fury's demeanor doesn't soften, but his voice loses its sharpness. "Your plane went down in the Arctic. The best our scientists can figure, that Super Soldier Serum you've got running around inside you amped up your metabolism, turning the ice into a stasis chamber of a sort. Your body kept itself alive by slowing everything down. When we pulled you out of the ice, you were alive, but barely. We thawed you out and prepared for your re-entry."

Steve snorts. "Your people need to work on their research skills. That game was from a few years before the war."

"I'll make note of it," Fury says. Steve has no doubt someone's going to be chewed out. "For now, let's get you some rest and start catching you up on everything that's been going on. It's a whole new world, Captain. We're facing threats we never imagined we would, and you may be able to help with that."

Fury stands up, and Steve rises with him. Some habits die hard.

"I've just had a 70 year nap, sir," Steve says with a self-deprecating smile. "I think I'd rather just get started, if you don't mind."

Fury just claps him on the shoulder as he walks out of the room.

~o~

The first time Steve sees Maria, his heart lurches nearly out of his chest.

She's standing on the bridge of the helicarrier, her hair pulled back in that familiar bun. The uniform she's wearing is a slightly different version of the one he remembers her wearing the day they met.

Their eyes meet across the bridge as he walks up to the conference table on the top-most level, but there's no recognition in her eyes. She nods, but it's formal, stilted. Obviously, this Maria hasn't yet traveled back in time.

Just the thought of it makes inappropriate laughter want to bubble up. He tamps it down forcefully. He doesn't have time to worry about this. There are, apparently, aliens about to invade Earth. He'd laugh about that, too, if it weren't entirely inappropriate as well.

Still, he's aware of her in the background the entire time he's on board the 'carrier. He can't help it; it's as if his internal radar is attuned to her. He catches her moving around out of the corner of his eye every now and then, directing traffic on the bridge with military precision.

It doesn't surprise him at all. He remembers with fondness all the times she'd sat with him, late into the night, talking strategy. He's come to admire her bright intellect and breadth of knowledge. Knowing that that Maria is near and yet just out of reach is both comforting and painful.

~o~

Steve's first glimpse of Tony's lab comes just a few days after the battle. It reminds him so much of his father's lab back in France that a dull ache forms under his breastbone. He swallows past the pain and follows Ms. Potts into Tony's inner sanctum.

At least he'd gotten that reference.

"Tony, you have a guest," Pepper says, yelling to be heard over the blaring music.

"J, I thought I told you to lock the door," Tony says without looking up from whatever he's doing with his Iron Man suit.

"Ms. Potts was insistent she be allowed entry."

Steve still finds it strange that the voice coming out of the speakers isn't human.

Tony glances up, winking at Steve. "Well, when you bring me such pretty visitors, how can I refuse?"

"I'm not pretty, Stark," Steve says, but it's nearly drowned out by the music.

"J, turn the music down," Tony says. He straightens up and pecks Pepper on the lips. "You leaving?"

"I've got that investor meeting this morning," she says. "Just don't break him."

She smiles and pats Steve's arm on her way out. Steve watches her go, a cockeyed smile on his face. He likes her; she reminds him of Peggy in many ways. She reminds him of Maria, too, which makes him wonder if the two women know each other. He's not sure it's a good idea to introduce them. The world might not survive if the two of them teamed up.

"No hitting on my girl, Boy Wonder," Tony says, drawing Steve's attention back from the door.

Steve turns around and sees Tony smirking at him. He shrugs. It's not like he could explain any of it anyway.

Tony straightens up and walks over to the workbench across the room, waving his hands over the surface. Schematics bloom to life in a light show suspended over the surface. Steve crosses the room to stand beside Tony, arms crossed as he watches him manipulate the drawings, making changes and adjustments as he goes.

"The helicarrier?" Steve asks, recognizing the shapes dancing in the air above them.

"Yeah," Tony says, still more focused on the drawings than on Steve. "Barton and his band of merry men did a hell of a lot of damage. So, I'm taking the opportunity to do some upgrades." A few last flourishes and then, "JARVIS, render that for me."

The drawings disappear as Stark's computer begins the process of incorporating the changes he's made into the overall design. Steve is still amazed by all that technology is capable of in this new century, but even he understands that JARVIS is an extraordinary leap ahead of the most advanced technology in existence.

Tony glances at him as he taps out something on the console. "My dad left me all his research notes, you know."

Steve doesn't say anything. Howard is a sore spot for Steve, just another person he left behind when he went down in the ice. From the dossier he read on Tony, it isn't much better for him. He grew up with an absent father, and while he wouldn't have believed it possible that Howard would abdicate his parental responsibilities like that, he also knows that war has a way of changing people. Maybe that's just one more casualty to add to the rest.

And then there are pictures popping up in front of him. Pictures of Peggy and Bucky, the Howling Commandos. Steve's heart constricts, faced with the visual evidence of all the people he left behind. Tony's still watching him as one last picture pops up.

Steve's breath catches. It's him, in a t-shirt and utility pants and not the Captain America uniform, and standing beside him is Maria, dressed in her improvised uniform, head tipped back in laughter.

"Now, a less suspicious man would say that you knew a woman who looks remarkably like Maria Hill," Tony says. He turns, leaning against the console, crossing his arms as he looks at Steve. "I, however, am definitely not less suspicious. Plus, my father's notes say her name is Maria and she was only with you for a couple of weeks in 1945."

"Stark," Steve says, sighing.

"No, I haven't told anyone," Tony says, waving Steve off. "And no, I don't plan to."

"Then why show me this?" Steve asks. He can't take his eyes off the picture. It makes his heart hurt, knowing that she's close and yet so very far away.

Instead of answering, Tony pulls something out of his pocket and sets it on the console, sliding it to Steve.

"What's this?" Steve asks as he picks it up. It's thin and light, and it looks a lot like the mobile phones he's seen people talking into all over Manhattan.

"That is a brand new StarkPhone," Tony says. "Hasn't been released to the public yet. I thought you might like one for your trip. I've pre-loaded some music, and everyone's phone numbers. It even has a direct line to JARVIS, just in case you need him." He pauses, nodding at the device. "And that photo is in there, too."

Steve's a bit shocked. "Why did you do this?"

Tony shrugs. "My dad said you were good people. And after everything we've been through in the last few days, I'm inclined to agree. That doesn't happen very often, so don't get too used to it. Plus, you're gonna need some friends in this century. I thought I'd offer to be the first."

"I—thanks," Steve says. He was convinced, a few days ago when they first met, that there was no way this was Howard's son. He's loud, brash and arrogant—which is all Howard, that's true—but he has a way of making you believe he cares about no one besides himself. Now? After everything they've seen and done in the last few days? Tony is definitely his father's son. And he's glad he's still got a Stark for a friend.

"Don't mention it, Cap," Tony says, clapping him on the shoulder. "Now, this thing's got a few new bells and whistles you're gonna want to know about."

~o~

It isn't until after the battle that Steve gets the chance to talk to Maria. He boards the helicarrier after they send Thor and Loki back to Asgard.

To say it's a mess is putting it lightly. The damage is extensive; it'll take months in dry-dock to get it back to fighting trim. They can't even land in the water for fear that the hull is compromised, so the helicarrier’s hanging in the sky over Manhattan, a wounded twin to the damage on the ground.

Maria is still on the bridge, directing repair crews to the areas with the most damage. They'll do what they can to shore up the 'carrier before they head for Washington DC and the SHIELD dry-dock, or so Tony had told him. The fact that Tony intends to be intimately involved in the refit of the helicarrier is just one more reason to believe he's not all he seems.

It had reminded him so much of Tony's father that for a second, it was like having Howard Stark in the room. It made his heart ache all over again.

Maria looks tired, and there are cuts and bruises on every visible bit of skin, but she's alive and that's more than enough for him. Knowing that she'd survive the invasion in order to travel back in time didn't make him worry less. But, like Peggy before her, Maria Hill wouldn't appreciate the sentiment, so he keeps it to himself.

"Captain," she says when she catches sight of him heading her way. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Ma'am. Fury asked me to let him know when I was ready to leave," Steve says. He hadn't really asked; Nick Fury gave orders, even when they had a question mark at the end.

"The Director is on a call at the moment," she says. "But I can pass on a message for you."

Steve shoves his hands in his pockets, his fingers curling around the nail, grounding him. Being this close to her is torture. She doesn't know who he is, not really, but he knows her intimately. He knows what her laugh sounds like, that the little lines between her eyes only appear when she's deep in thought, that she smells like apples and sunshine.

He tries not to blush at that last thought.

"Tell Fury I'm taking some time off," Steve says. "I don't know how long I'll be gone."

"I'll get you a cell phone so we can reach you if we need to," she says.

"No need," Steve says. He pulls the StarkPhone out of his pocket and holds it up. "Courtesy of Tony Stark."

"Do you know how to use that thing, Captain?" she asks, smirking at him.

"Tony showed me the basics, but I think I can figure out the rest," Steve says. He tucks the phone back into his pocket. "I'm sure you'll be fine without me for a while."

"Where will you go?"

Steve shrugs. "Don't know. Don't particularly care. I've got 70 years to catch up on. I'm sure I'll think of something."

"Be safe out there, Captain," Maria says. "Things are different now."

"Yes, ma'am," he says, a slight smile tipping his lips.

He nods at her, then turns and heads out. He's tempted to stay and talk to her some more, maybe ask her out on a date, but he just keeps walking, heading for the flight deck and the Quinjet he'd hitched a ride on.

Her focus is on keeping the helicarrier in the air until they can get it to dry-dock. He'd only be a distraction, and he knows how dangerous that can be. Besides, he has her at a disadvantage. She barely knows him, but he knows her well.

It's a small mercy, considering everyone else he's ever known is long dead. And because of that, he can be patient.

~o~

2014

Steve had thought—or maybe hoped is a better word—that a new century would bring peace and cooperation to the world. That the specter of all-out nuclear war would force the nations of the world to put aside their prejudices and petty squabbles and learn to get along.

Turns out that the devil you know never truly goes away.

Steve is still reeling from being on the run the last few days, still trying to come to terms with the reality that Hydra has been hiding in plain sight. He feels like everything he and his team did during the war was for nothing. It's not a nice feeling, but it's hardly the worst thing he's got going on right now.

The friend he'd thought he'd lost in the war is alive and well, and apparently a trained assassin. An assassin that, to be fair, most people believe is a myth. Because of course his best friend would overachieve.

"You okay?"

Steve glances at Maria. She looks good. Tired, but who isn't after what they've lived through the last few days.

He's been sitting at the table in the bunker for a while now. Their planning session is long over, but his head is full of too many thoughts. It's not like he has any attachment to SHIELD. He's spent the last year since he woke up defending the Earth from an alien invasion, going on missions and trying to make the world a safer place to live.

It's not as unselfish as it sounds. Yes, he's making a difference, but he still feels out of place, a relic in the modern age. But at least it keeps him busy, and near Maria. As motivations go, it lacks something, but waking up in a new century knowing he'd left everyone he ever loved behind has been hard to come to terms with.

"I thought we'd won," Steve says when Maria sits down across from him, a worried frown wrinkling her brow. "When I went into the ice, I thought we'd destroyed Hydra. That's what that last mission was about, destroying their headquarters and ending Schmidt. It feels like we failed."

"You can't believe that," Maria says. "No one could have predicted that Zola would recreate Hydra within SHIELD. Besides, Zola wasn't the only former Nazi the US Government employed. We trusted him because we trusted the others. That's not your fault."

"Maybe," Steve says. He's not sure that makes it any better, really, but he's also not willing to argue the point. There are far more pressing issues at stake than rehashing the past. "I was surprised when you backed me earlier. Taking down SHIELD."

"I don't see how we can't," she says, leaning back and crossing her arms. "I've given my life to this organization, but I can't trust it anymore. If we don't take it all down, none of us will ever be able to trust each other or the organization we serve again. It's easy to lie and swear you aren't Hydra. How many people would do that just to evade punishment? How many people would hide within our ranks, waiting for the opportunity to rebuild their numbers and start again?"

Steve nods. "I can't imagine how hard this must be for you."

"It's no harder for me than for anyone else," Maria says.

"What will you do?" Steve asks. "After."

"You mean if we survive," Maria says with a snort.

"We're going to get through this, Maria," Steve says. It's not optimism, not really. He believes they'll succeed; he has to believe it or he'll never be able to do what he has to.

Maria gives him a wan smile. "I have no idea what I'm going to do next. I joined SHIELD right out of the Army. In many ways, this is all I've known. I'm not sure I know who I am without SHIELD."

"You're strong, smart, a good leader, and a good tactician," Steve says, hardly having to think about it.

"Thanks," Maria says. "Maybe I'll just take some time off. Travel. See places I've only ever been to on a mission."

"Traveling is good," Steve says with a smile. "It's a good way to clear your head, anyway."

"You gonna be okay facing off against the Winter Soldier?"

Steve winces. "Bucky's started remembering. I can see it in his eyes. I have to believe I can get through to him."

"And if you can't?" she asks pointedly.

"Then I complete the mission," Steve says, his voice a little hard. "SHIELD has to be destroyed, no matter what. As much as I want to believe that Bucky won't hurt me, I can't guarantee that. If I have to go through him to complete the mission, that's what I have to do."

"I'm sorry that you have to make that choice," Maria says.

"It's not your fault Hydra turned him into a killing machine," Steve says.

"No, but that doesn't mean I'm blind either," she says. "You're going to mourn him all over again after this, win or lose. And I'm truly sorry for that."

"Thanks," Steve says.

Maria reaches out, lays her hand over his where it rests on the table and squeezes. "Just don't forget that you have friends. Friends who'll be there to help you pick up the pieces after this is all over."

She gives his hand one more squeeze, then stands up and heads out of the room. Steve watches her go, feeling better already for having spent just a few minutes talking to her. It's not enough, not nearly enough, but he knows he can't be selfish right now. They have work to do; there'll be time later for personal things.

~o~

It's been a day and a half since he woke up in the hospital, and two days since the fall of SHIELD. Sam's been a quiet presence at his side, his self-appointed body guard though Steve hardly needs one. They've talked music and movies and even watched a few that were on Steve's list. It's been nice, normal, if such a thing could be said about his life.

And it's been a good distraction when he needed one the most.

His heart still aches, thinking about Bucky and everything he's gone through in the last 70 years, whether he remembers it or not. Steve has searched for purpose in this modern world, and Bucky had a purpose thrust on him, no matter that it was as an assassin. He has no idea where his friend is, but he knows that he survived the crashing helicarrier.

Sam says someone called the authorities, and Steve would bet that it was Bucky. That, more than anything, makes him believe that his friend is still in there, somewhere. Now, he's just got to find him.

First, though, he's got to get out of the hospital.

He's mostly healed at this point—and thank God for the Serum still running through his veins—but the doctors are refusing to release him, claiming that his injuries were catastrophic and they'd be violating their oaths if they let him out without making sure he's 100% healed. Steve's no dummy; he knows they're hoping to study the Serum and see how it works. Steve's not going to give them the opportunity.

He's almost dressed in the clothes Sam brought him—jeans, a grey t-shirt and his leather jacket, all taken from his apartment along with a few other important items he'd sent Sam for—when he hears heels clicking on the floor behind him. He turns to find Maria standing there, smiling at him.

She's wearing slim black pants and heels, a bright blue shirt setting off the color of her eyes, and her hair twisted into an elegant chignon. Despite everything they've been through over the past week, she looks good. He knew she'd survived; it was one of the first things he'd asked Sam when he woke up. Sam had given him a knowing smirk as he confirmed that she'd made it out. Still, it's good to have visual confirmation of that.

"I'm surprised they let you in," he says as he sits down to tie his shoes.

Maria shrugs. "Your guards have mysteriously disappeared."

Steve's head pops up, taking in the wicked gleam in Maria's eyes. It makes his heart stutter in his chest, a slightly uncomfortable feeling considering just a couple of days ago he was as close to dying as he's ever been.

"So, what brings you here?" he asks. "I'd have thought you'd be miles from here by now."

"I'm headed to New York," she says, leaning against the wall as he finishes tying his shoes. "I thought I'd offer you a ride."

"You're going to drive to New York? Isn't that a bit far?"

"Funny," she says, smirking. "Stark sent his jet. He wants to offer me a job, and he's got a place for you to stay while we sort out the rest of this Hydra business."

Steve sits back in the chair Sam had practically been glued to, trying not to let the shock kill him. Sure, he and Tony get along, and he might even call the man his friend, but to offer him a lifeline like this seems slightly out of character.

"Is he sure he wants to do that?" Steve asks. "Things are probably going to get hot, now that Hydra's been exposed."

"Whatever else Tony Stark might be, he's loyal to his friends," Maria says. "Or so he tells me. What he's offering is a chance to start over, for both of us. I'm not above taking it if it means I have a place to land. A few days ago, I wasn't all that sure I'd have even that."

Steve nods. "Good point." He gets up and shrugs into his jacket, grabbing the iPod off the table and pocketing it as he turns back to Maria. "Where's Sam?"

"Sam is meeting the movers Stark hired to clear out your place," Maria says. She turns and heads for the door. "He's going to meet us at the cemetery, then fly back with us."

"He's coming with us to New York?" Steve asks. He's surprised by that; Sam has a life in DC, people that count on him and a job he loves.

"He said—and I quote—'Rogers can't step out his front door without finding trouble. No way I'm letting him go to New York without me.'"

Steve laughs at that. How he wound up with such a loyal bodyguard-come-friend is beyond him, but he'll take it.

"And Natasha?"

"She'll be there, too," Maria says. "She had some errands to run first, apparently."

They walk out of the room and, true to her word, there's not a cop or agent in sight. Steve is relieved. He doesn't want to have to fight his way out of the hospital, and he's not prepared to let the doctors have their way with him. He'll have to figure out how to get his medical records back later, because even that little information can be dangerous in the wrong hands.

"And don't worry," Maria says. They step into the elevator and she punches the button for the ground floor. "Stark sicced his lawyers on the hospital; right about now they're probably tripping all over themselves to gather and turn over all your records and samples. He even took custody of the bio-waste from the operating room. He won't let you be studied, even secondhand."

"I—don't know what to say," Steve says. "I'm going to owe him a lot before all’s said and done."

"Stark's got money to burn, and a whole phalanx of lawyers who love getting their hands dirty so he doesn't have to," Maria said, smirking once more. "I say let him. It keeps him out of trouble, and if we can do that, Pepper will be eternally grateful."

Steve snorts. "Probably." He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans, glancing down at his shoes for a moment before looking up to meet her eyes. The nail, miraculously, is still with him, even after everything he's been through. Somehow, that makes him feel better. "Thanks. For everything you've done. I don't think we'd have made it without you."

"I did what I always do, Captain," she says. "What needs to be done. But you're welcome just the same. I'm glad you made it out."

The elevator dings quietly. "Thanks. So am I."

He shares a quiet smile with her as they exit the car, one full of the knowledge that they've come through a harrowing experience and lived to tell the tale. It's the same smile he's shared countless times with the Commandos. It's nice to have someone else who understands what it's like to do the hard things and come out the other side.

...continued...


	2. After

~o~

2014

Budapest.

Steve had known it was coming, but to see it there in black and white is another thing entirely.

Budapest, where his whole life changed. Again.

His life so far has been a series of life-changing moments, but he thinks maybe this one is the biggest one of all. Bigger maybe even than Rebirth, because this is the moment he catches up with Maria. Or that Maria catches up with him. The idea of time travel still gives him headaches, but he'll gladly put up with them if it gets him a single moment of happiness.

Or a whole lifetime of happiness. He's not picky, really.

"You okay, Captain?"

He looks up to find Maria watching him, that concerned frown that he loves so much creasing her brow. He schools his face into what he hopes is a cool, professional expression even as he tries--and mostly fails--to keep his heart from bursting out of his chest in utter joy.

"Yeah," he says, voice a little rough. He clears his throat and tries again. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just Budapest. Brings back memories."

Her frown deepens. "Not bad memories, I hope. We can send a team for that one. You don't have to go, if you'd rather not."

"I never skipped a mission when I was in the Army, not even after we lost Bucky," he says. "I can handle it."

"I'm not suggesting you can't," Maria says. "I'm saying that you don't have to. You have a team that will go where you tell them to. We've sent them off on other raids without you. This time's no different."

"Maybe, but I'd still like to lead the team this time," he says. He scrambles around for a second, trying to come up with a plausible excuse for why it has to be him this time, finally landing on something he thinks she'll buy. "If I remember our intelligence from the war, Hydra was up to some pretty hairy stuff, and some of it was done at the Budapest facility. I trust the team, but I'd still like to be there, to see it for myself."

"Fair enough," she says, shrugging one shoulder. "I'd like to gather some more detailed information about the facility, make sure there are no surprises."

Steve nearly snorts. He's not sure there's a way to prepare for what's coming for her, but he's not going to say it out loud. Instinct and his memory of their late-night conversation in the mess the night she told him the truth suggest that he never talked to her about this mission, so he'll keep quiet. Best to let it unfold as it will. There'll be plenty of time to talk about it after.

"I'd like you on the entry team, if you're willing," he says in what he hopes is a casual manner.

It's not like it's unusual for her to accompany them, from time to time. But normally she runs the op from Avenger's Tower, acting as the eyes and ears for the entry team. He's hoping she'll take this as an opportunity to brush up on her field skills.

Maria blinks once in surprise, then nods. If she has any reservations at all, she's not saying.

"Good," he says. "Let me know if you need anything from me. I wasn't on the team that conducted the original raid, but I'm sure I could dredge up a memory or two."

"Thanks," she says, nodding. "I have Howard's notes from the SSR, but if you've got anything to add, that would be helpful. The Hungarians have no idea what they're sitting on, so they're absolutely no help at all."

He can hear the frustration in her voice, and it echoes in him. He'd thought doing this with SHIELD was hard, what with governmental squabbling and territoriality, but it's a hundred times worse when you're trying to do it as what amounts to a private contractor. The Stark name still carries weight in the war business, but Stark can only do so much to clear a path for them. And with so much suspicion surrounding anything related to SHIELD, it feels like an uphill climb with every mission.

Still, Steve has made it his personal mission to see Hydra ended, once and for all. He's not going to give up until the last remnants of it are in the ground, the way it should have been in 1945. He might be late to this party, but he's not leaving until the lights go out.

Tony Stark would be proud to hear him say that, if only because he got the slang right.

~o~

The briefing before the raid proceeds like the rest of them have. The team they've put together is made up of ex-military types: highly-skilled and specially trained soldiers—most of them former special forces of one sort or another—straight out of the Captain America playbook. Some of the men remind him strongly of the Howling Commandos, but he figures that's why they were hired. Good men doing the hard work to make the world safe. He's proud of them, even if he doesn't say it often enough.

Despite his best efforts, his eyes keep finding Maria in the back of the room. His memories of the week they spent together in 1945 are still fresh, and while he's determined to keep his head in the present, he can't help but wonder how things will be different for them once the mission is over.

Truth be told, he wonders if things are already different, if knowing what he knows has somehow changed the way things have unfolded for them. They're not close, but he'd like to think they're friends, and he wonders sometimes if that was true for Maria before she traveled back in time. There isn't anything he can do about it, so he tries not to think about it, but sometimes the thought will linger.

Steve approaches her once the briefing ends. She's had this far-away look on her face for the last several minutes. He's not worried, per se, but it is a bit out of character for her.

"Everything okay, Ms. Hill?"

"Captain," she says, looking mildly chagrined for having been caught daydreaming. "Sorry. I was just going over some things in my head. Didn't mean to tune you out."

"No problem," he says with a smile. "It's not like you haven't heard this all a dozen times before." He pauses, studying her intently for a few heartbeats. "You ready for this?"

"Of course," she says, frowning. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"No reason," he says, shrugging. She's watching him closely now, as if she can sense that there's something he's not saying, but he doesn't speak, just continues to watch her.

"Wheels up at 0700 tomorrow?" she asks.

He nods. "Affirmative."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow morning," she says.

He watches her walk away, thinking of all the ways things are going to change in the next few days. He's held his feelings for her close to his vest for so long that he's not sure what will happen when she comes back from 1945. He knows he loves her, has known that since the moment she left him standing there in the corridor of the Hydra facility they're planning to raid.

He has no idea how she feels about him, and if those feelings include loving him the way he loves her. But that's putting the cart before the horse, as it were. First the raid. Then, he'll see what happens next.

~o~

The flight is uneventful. He spends the first part of it alternately watching Maria and staring straight ahead, going over his memories of her time in the past. About halfway to Budapest, he realizes that the quickest way to get himself killed—or, more likely, the men he has with him on the mission—is to allow himself to be distracted, so he buckles down and focuses on the mission at hand.

The have clearance to land and stage at Kecskemét Air Base, a Hungarian facility about fifty miles from Budapest. Steve has no idea how Tony managed that, but he's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Maria rides with him in the lead vehicle, and as the miles slip away, he reminds himself that, no matter what happens in the next few hours, he's glad to have worked with her over the last few months.

When they arrive at the cemetery, Steve can't help but remember the day he helped Maria return to her own time. He finds it ironic in the extreme that he's showing her where the back door is, when he's the one who learned that information from her. They team up, just like they planned it in the many briefings they'd had for this mission, Steve and Maria in the lead, headed for the deepest part of the facility.

The team peels off in small groups behind them, checking their assigned zones and hopefully taking prisoners instead of collecting bodies. He hasn't heard gunfire yet, which is always a good sign, but he's not going to breathe easy until the whole thing is over.

He watches Maria head off with her team to search one of the last remaining corridors. His heart hammers in his chest, knowing she's moments away from disappearing from this time. He has to fight every instinct within him not to protect her from what's coming. Instead, he focuses on the task at hand, clearing the rooms along his path and looking for people or information they can use to take down the rest of Hydra.

They don't find any people, but they do find a treasure trove of files. It's gratifying, even if it's less than what they'd hoped for. They can only hope that the files are more current than the Cold War.

When the last of the rooms have been cleared, and reports start coming in from around the facility, Steve breathes a little easier. A few prisoners and some really interesting tech, if the reports are to be believed, seems to be their haul. Maria's team reports that they've found nothing of interest, but he didn't expect them to. That deep into the facility, the rooms have been mostly abandoned, as if they'd consolidated what little they'd had into a small area.

He instructs his team to make preparations to recover the files they've found and get them back to the air base. Tony will probably throw a fit that none of it is digitized, but Steve's learned to tune out his griping anyway.

Meanwhile, Steve has a date with destiny. Which sounds cheesy in his head, but it's no less true for that.

He heads off in the direction Maria's team went, taking a deep breath as he goes. He's ready for this, has been ready ever since he woke up from the ice and found out what year it was.

~o~

Steve stands in the corridor, waiting. He's watching the door to The Room, as if it contains the secrets to life, the universe and everything.

Yeah, Douglas Adams had been on the list.

It's been two years—or 72 years, but who's counting—since he's seen Maria. Intellectually, he knows she'll be exactly as he remembers her the last time he saw her, closing this very door. But his heart is having trouble accepting that it'll really be the Maria he remembers.

He can still remember what that moment felt like, can still remember feeling like he was taking a knife to the heart, like he'd never be able to breathe again through the pain of losing yet one more person that mattered to him.

But here and now, he can feel the hope burning in his chest, burning away all the pain and fear and loneliness. His life hasn't been easy, not life before Rebirth, and certainly not after. But maybe this is the second chance he didn't think he'd get.

The doorknob rattles, shaking him out of his thoughts. The door swings open in a rush, revealing Maria just as he remembers her. The air rushes out of his lungs and he's rooted to the spot, not moving or breathing for fear it's all an illusion that'll shatter the moment he makes a sound.

Maria steps forward, the door to the room swinging shut behind her. She jumps a little at the sound, but her eyes never leave his.

They stand that way for long minutes, drinking in the sight of each other. Maria hasn't changed, but she's completely different at the same time. Because this time, when he looks into her eyes, he can see the light of recognition, a warmth that hadn't been there the last time they spoke, just a few hours ago.

Finally, he gets himself unstuck and takes the few steps that bring him to her. He still can't speak, but it seems he doesn't really need to, because he can see everything he wants to say reflected in Maria's eyes.

Instead, he reaches out and lays a hand on her shoulder, pressing his thumb into the bruise he'd left on her collar bone. She closes her eyes, leaning into the touch and sighing, as though she knows now she can finally relax.

"You okay?" he asks softly.

She opens her eyes and meets his gaze. Strong. Resilient. Everything he remembers about her, standing before him. Alive.

"Yeah," she says, nodding. "I'm okay."

"Come on," he says. "They should be about finished with the mop-up. We'll meet the team and head out."

What he really wants to do is pull her into his arms and never let go. Kiss her like there's no tomorrow. Make love to her all night long. But there's a mission to finish. And there'll be plenty of time for private reunions later.

Maria nods her agreement, as he'd known she would. Duty first isn't just a hollow phrase. For either of them.

Besides, he's waited two years. A few more hours won't hurt.

~o~

They sit side by side on the quinjet for the return trip home. They don't say anything, just sit on the bench, leaning into each other. Every once in a while, he'll nudge her shoulder, earning a soft, shy smile, so unlike the sharp grins she usually gives. Her hand keeps drifting to his, as if she's trying to remind herself that he's really there. He's sure his smile is pretty goofy, but he hardly cares.

It's a nine hour flight, and somewhere between Budpest and London, Maria nods off, resting her head on his shoulder. Steve settles back in his seat, curling his arm around her and pulling her closer to his side. He gets a few curious looks from the team, but most of them ignore her uncharacteristic state of relaxation.

Maria wakes up halfway across the Atlantic, stretching and smiling at him sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

"Don't be," he says. "You looked like you could use the rest."

"Didn't get much sleep last night," she says. Her eyes dart to his, and they share a look.

He smiles crookedly at her. "I can imagine."

She elbows him, but it's just for show. She settles back in beside him, leaning subtly into his side. He hasn't moved his arm from the back of the bench, but he refrains from looping his arm around her shoulders again. He tells himself he only did it before to make sure she didn't fall off the bench and wake herself up, but he knows he did it to keep her close. Now he doesn't need to, but his arm aches to rest around her shoulders again.

He takes a deep breath and reins in the impulse. Technically, they're still on a mission, so he needs to maintain a certain level of professionalism. They're nearly there, but once they land they'll need to debrief, so it'll be hours yet before they can be alone. He's been patient this long, but he begrudges even those few hours separation.

~o~

"I can't believe you brought me paper files," Tony grouses as they enter the room.

Maria rolls her eyes as she takes a seat near the head of the table where Tony's got a bunch of files spread out over the surface.

"It'll do you some good to have to read from actual paper for a change," she says. She grabs a bottle of water from the tray in the center of the table and cracks it open, taking a long drink.

"No, see, this is why God invented interns," Tony says, waving at the papers. "To scan this dead forest so I can have JARVIS do a keyword search."

Steve drops his gauntlets on the table and takes a drink from his own bottle of water. "What about the rest of the equipment we brought back?"

"I haven't had the chance to look at much of it," Tony says, leaning back in his chair. "What I've seen of it suggests they've been busy. I can't even identify some of it, and I thought I was out there on the cutting edge." He leans forward and flicks his hand at the box on the table, near the water tray. "I'm more interested in what's in that thing. You're not trying to hold out on me, Captain Spangle Pants, are you?"

Steve frowns at the nickname, but lets it slide. He's realized it's Tony's way of expressing how much he likes you; he doesn't nickname anyone he doesn't like. Maria looks to him, one eyebrow raised, Steve tilts his head. He thinks they can trust Tony, but this is huge. Their last run-in with an artifact as powerful as this ended well, but it wasn't without cost.

He's hoping this time is different.

Maria opens the case and turns it for Tony to see. He whistles as he pulls the case to him, lifting the artifact out of the foam padding and turning it over in his hands. Steve's never actually seen it before, so his first thought is that it seems like such a small thing to have caused such a fuss. A center crystal surrounded by concentric rings mounted on a base. It looks like a smaller version of the globes they had at school when he was a kid.

"This is what sent you back in time?"

Maria's eyes widen almost comically. Steve huffs; Tony's never been subtle, but at least you know what he's thinking.

"Someone took a picture of you in 1945," Steve tells Maria. "It was with Howard's things. Tony showed it to me after the Battle of Manhattan."

"I was so careful," Maria says, closing her eyes.

"The three of us are the only ones who know," Tony says, glancing up from the artifact. "Well, and JARVIS, but he's not going to tell anyone."

"Indeed," JARVIS chimes in. "I will not divulge the origin of this photograph to anyone outside this room."

"Thanks, JARVIS," Steve says.

"So, how does it work?" Tony asks. He sets the artifact down on the table in front of him, pushing the case aside. "I assume it still works."

"The concentric circles spin in opposite directions, which seems to activate the crystal," Maria says. Tony taps the outer ring, causing both it and the inner ring surrounding the crystal to spin in opposite directions. Predictably, nothing happens.

"It's not doing anything," Tony says, eyeing the artifact skeptically.

"Howard thought maybe the crystal needed to recharge after being discharged," Maria says.

Steve cringes a little. Howard is a sore subject for Tony, but the man seems a little oblivious to even the mention of his father's name. Instead he's leaned back in his chair again, his eyes glued to the artifact as if it'll disappear if he looks away.

"How did you get it to take you to 1945?" Tony asks. "How'd you get it to bring you back here so close to the time you left? Physics says that's not possible."

"I didn't activate it the first time," Maria says. "But when I returned, I just started it spinning and hoped it would send me back to 2014. I think there's an element of will attached to it."

"You tell it where to go and it takes you there?" Tony asks. "You know that's kind of impossible."

"And yet I wound up in 1945," Maria says.

Tony levels a finger at her. "Point."

"Have you got someplace to store this?" Steve asks. "This isn't the sort of thing we want to fall into the wrong hands."

"There's a vault in the sub-basement," Tony says. "Climate controlled with a biometric scanner. Plus JARVIS to monitor access. No one's getting in there unless I want them to."

"Well, that's something, at least," Maria says, leaning back in her chair.

She sounds about as relieved as Steve feels. This artifact, more than the Tesseract and the Scepter, could wreak havoc in the wrong hands.

"You kids go get cleaned up," Tony says, rising and settling the artifact back inside its case. "I'll make sure this gets in the vault."

"Just make sure it doesn't take a detour through your lab, Tony," Maria says as she stands up.

"Hey, this is me you're talking about." Maria levels her best no-bullshit look at him. Tony smirks. "You've been taking lessons from Pepper, haven't you?" He raises his hands in surrender. "Okay, fine, I'll take it to the vault."

"JARVIS, notify me if he doesn't have that case with the artifact secured inside the vault within the next twenty minutes," Maria says.

"You are a buzzkill," Tony says as he walks out of the conference room. "But I still like you." He pats Maria on the shoulder as he passes her. "Welcome back to the future."

Steve snorts. That one, he gets.

~o~

Steve follows Maria back to her apartment in the Tower. He's never actually been inside; for all that they'd worked together to plan the Hydra missions, they haven't actually spent a lot of time together, and certainly not social time.

The layout is familiar. Apparently all the apartments in the Tower have similar floorplans, the floorplan of the rooms depending on which side of the Tower you're on. They're spacious—two apartments per floor means plenty of room to spread out—but Maria's seems especially so.

"Sorry," she says, glancing back at him as she drops her bag on the couch. "I know it's supposed to look like I live here, but I haven't really had time to do much more than the basics."

He lets his gaze roam the room for a moment, taking in the comfortable furniture and mostly bare walls. A large TV looms on one wall, an exact copy of the one in his apartment. There are pillows on the couch, and a throw over the back, but precious few knick-knacks or other personal items. Unlike his own place, which, according to Tony, is decorated in Yard Sale Chic. Steve doesn't take it personally; he'd spent hours tracking down some of that stuff, so he wasn't going to give it up without a fight.

"I'm not sure it matters what I think," Steve said. He crosses the room to stand in front of Maria, his hand automatically reaching for her shoulder, his thumb caressing the mark he'd left. "But just in case it does, you should probably know I care more about the woman who lives here than how she's furnished her apartment."

Maria leans into his touch, closing her eyes as her whole body goes lax. "How are you even real?"

Steve smiles softly. "I ask myself that every day."

She reaches up and caresses his cheek, then lets her hand slip behind his neck and tugs gently. He doesn't resist, just steps closer and pulls her into his arms, lowering his lips to hers.

Relief flashes through him when she responds eagerly, opening to him without even waiting for his prompt. His own faint moan echoes hers as their tongues tangle. The memory of how she felt against him is nothing to the reality of having her in his arms once again.

He pulls away, reluctantly, to look down into her eyes. His hand settles on her cheek, cradling her face as his thumb sweeps gently over her cheek. "God, I've missed you."

"It almost broke me," she says, nuzzling into the contact. "Walking away from you this morning."

"I had to fight for every step I took away from that room," he says. "I thought I'd lost you forever."

"I know," she says. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. I wanted to; you don't know how badly I wanted to, but I wasn't sure what that would do. I was putting a lot at risk, just by being there, but I didn't have a choice."

"I know," Steve says. "And it's okay. When I saw you on the bridge of the helicarrier that first time, I realized that it was going to be a while before your trip back in time. It was hard, knowing that you were so close and yet you didn't know me. Not really."

"I can't imagine how hard that was for you," she says, his own pain reflected in her eyes. "I saw you looking at me; I just never understood why until I found myself in 1945."

"There were times when I wondered if I was changing things, just by knowing the things I know," he says. "If I was somehow more open to you, considering the past we share, and that it might somehow change the future and your trip back in time."

"I don't think anything's changed," she says, "but it's not like I know how this time travel thing works anyway. I don't think I want to know, frankly. I'm done traveling through time, thank you very much."

Steve chuckles. "So am I. It's more trouble than it's worth."

"Come to bed with me?" she asks. "I'm probably too tired to do anything tonight, but I want to sleep beside you, if that's okay."

"That's more than okay," he says.

She takes his hand and leads him through the apartment, into her bedroom. Here, at least, there's a bit more of Maria's personality reflected. The bed is made with piles of linens and pillows in blues and creams. There's a picture of a cobblestone street above the bed, and photographs on the dresser.

She steps into the walk-in closet and quickly strips out of her uniform, throwing it into the clothes bin in the corner. Steve sheds his own uniform, tossing it onto the chair near the windows, along with his boots and gauntlets. He pauses for a moment, then adds his undershirt to the pile just as Maria emerges wearing a soft cotton night shirt.

She smiles shyly at Steve, which startles a laugh out of him. "It's not like you haven't seen it all before."

"That was seventy years ago," she says with a shrug as she steps closer.

"It was also just last night," he says, pulling her close.

"Come on," she says, squeezing him briefly before she steps away. "At this point, I'm not sure I'm even going to make it to the bed."

She pulls him over to the bed and tosses aside a couple of pillows as she turns down the covers. She slides in and he follows, pulling her close before she can even get halfway across the bed.

She hums as he pulls her into his arms, relaxing and almost instantly falling asleep. Steve presses a kiss to her head, closing his eyes and allowing himself to drift into a dreamless sleep.

~o~

The sun is barely peeking through the skyscrapers in this part of Manhattan, but Steve's been awake for a while. Since Rebirth, he hasn't needed nearly as much sleep as he used to. Sometimes, he misses being able to bury his head under a pillow and sleep until noon. This morning, he doesn't mind so much.

He's been watching Maria sleep, and while he used to think such a thing was creepy, now he gets the attraction. She's peaceful in sleep, curled into him as he lays on his side beside her. He'd expected her to sleep fitfully, perhaps even to have a nightmare, but she's slept soundly all night. It isn't that he thinks she couldn't handle what happened, more that reconciling what happened to her with reality as she understands it might be difficult.

Apparently, Maria is stronger than even he gave her credit for being. For that, he can only be grateful.

She slowly comes to wakefulness as he watches, the twin fans of her eyelashes fluttering against the pale skin of her cheek as her breathing changes. She squeezes her eyes tighter even as she burrows closer to him.

"It figures you'd be a morning person," she grumbles into his chest.

Steve chuckles as he pulls her closer. "To be fair, I don't sleep a lot, so I don't think I'm a morning person so much as I'm not really much of a sleeper anymore."

She hums a little, then sighs as she pulls back to look at him, her eyes still a little bleary. "I'm going to need about a gallon of coffee this morning. Ugh."

"You don't need to be up for a few more hours," Steve says, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "It's not like Tony's going to care. He probably stayed up all night looking through everything we brought back."

"He's probably still at it," Maria says.

She rolls onto her back and stretches languidly. Steve makes no effort to hide the fact that he watches the way her lean form lengthens under the thin cotton of the shirt she'd worn to bed.

"See something you like?" she asks, one elegant eyebrow raised.

Steve reaches out and rests his hand low on her belly. "I do. I think I'd see even more if you weren't wearing this shirt."

Slowly, her eyes never leaving his, Maria strips out of the nightshirt, tossing it away from the bed with a deliberate flick of her wrist. Suddenly, there's miles of bare skin stretched out before him, just waiting to be touched and explored. He sucks in a breath as his hand slowly skims her torso. It's been three years for him, but it feels like yesterday, a thought that makes him chuckle.

"I've never had a man laugh at me in bed," Maria says. "I'm not sure I like it."

"I was just thinking that, even though it's been three years for me, it feels like just yesterday."

"And for me, it was just yesterday," she finishes for him. "Yeah, that is kind of funny."

His hand continues its journey, skimming under her breast and then along her side, looping back to where it started. He just stares at his hand for long moments, utterly amazed that he's here with her like this, both of them in the same time and likely to stay there. It's a bit overwhelming to think that he might get to keep her this time, that maybe he's found someone that will stay in his life for more than a few months. Besides Bucky, there really hasn't been anyone like that in his life in longer than he'd care to remember.

He's not sure he should say it, though. In reality, they've only known each other for a short time, and they've really only been lovers for a day. He knows how he feels, but he's not sure how she feels about him, and it seems like it's too soon to ask.

"Hey," she says, reaching up to squeeze the hand on her torso. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not—" he presses his lips together. "I don't want to presume that you want—"

That's as far as he gets before she's pressing a finger to his lips to silence him. "I want this. I want you. I love you. Maybe it's too soon to talk about feelings, but I've known you for three years, and I just spent a week getting to know the you from 1945. If time travel has taught me anything, it's that we owe it to ourselves to take chances. If we don't, we might miss something important. And in case you missed it, you're important. At least to me."

Steve lets out the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, gathering her into his arms and pressing his face into her neck. "You're important to me, too." He shifts, rolling her under him and pulling back just enough that he can see her face. "I fell in love with you in that week we spent together in 1945. And seeing you on the bridge of the helicarrier three years ago was like torture, because you were right there, but you didn't remember me the way I remembered you. I wanted to tell you then, but I knew I couldn't. I don't care if it's too soon to talk about feelings; I've lost too many people I care about to pretend not to care when I do."

"I really hate time travel," Maria says.

Steve drops his forehead onto Maria's chest, laughing into her skin. When he looks up, she's smiling, looking so kissable that it nearly steals his breath. He doesn't even pretend he's trying to hold back. He leans in and presses his lips to hers, the kiss starting out chaste but escalating quickly. Their tongues tangle as they explore each other's mouths. He sighs into the kiss, his hips rolling gently into hers as he feels himself harden at the mere thought of what's to come.

He breaks away from her lips to nip at the skin of her neck, his lips unerringly finding their way to the mark he'd left on her collarbone. It's still vividly red, but he worries at it a little more, just to make sure it's not going anywhere anytime soon. Maria threads her fingers through his hair as she chuckles.

"You're a bit territorial," she says, low and quiet. "I like it."

"I've seen the clothes you wear," he says, pulling back to look her in the eye. "They won't ask about it, but they'll be able to see it. And no one will suspect it was me."

"You don't want me to tell anyone?"

He can see the concern in her eyes and the way she's nibbling on her lower lip. He reaches up to brush a slice of hair away from her forehead. "You can shout it from the top of the Tower, if you'd like. Or post it on Twitter. Or you can leave them guessing. It's up to you if you want anyone to know about this."

"Are you going to tell anyone?" she asks.

"Tony will figure it out before anyone else," he says. "It's probably smarter to tell everyone else before he does. I'd rather they hear it from me than the internet. Or Tony. You okay with that?"

Instead of answering, she reaches up and tugs him down to her, kissing him with all the passion she can muster. He falls into the kiss, delighted to find that she's just as aggressive in bed as she'd been in 1945. He sets about exploring every inch of available skin with his lips and hands, spending extra time caressing each breast, nipping and sucking until her nipples are taut and straining for his touch.

Her eyes, when he finally looks up, are fairly glowing in the low light of dawn. She's breathing heavily, her fingers flexing in his hair. It should be painful, the tugs and twists of her hands as her pleasure escalates, but he finds he likes the way it feels; positive feedback for all the pleasure he's giving her.

She starts wiggling her hips, so Steve pulls back a bit more to give her room. She wiggles out of her underwear, then proceeds to attack his. Both pairs go flying across the room as he settles down over her again. He stares into her eyes for a long moment, amazed at the depth of feeling he sees.

"You ready?"

Maria nods. "More than."

Steve takes her lips in a searing kiss as he presses inside her in one long stroke. He pauses once he's buried to the hilt, pressing his forehead to hers as he breathes through the pleasure flooding his system. Once he's sure he's not going to come the second he starts moving, he pulls back and presses in again, setting a slow rhythm as the pleasure builds between them.

Maria wraps her legs around his waist, tilting her hips up as she digs her fingers into his shoulders. She's holding him so tightly that he's sure she's leaving marks. Not that he minds, because his body heals fast enough that they'll be gone in a matter of hours. She'll just have to do it again the next time.

That thought spurs him on, speeding his strokes and heightening his pleasure and hers. His hands begin to wander, up the long length of her arms until he can tangle his fingers with hers. He presses her hands above her head, pushing up so he can see the pleasure on her face as he pushes into her. At this angle, his pelvic bone is pressing into her clit, sending shivers of pleasure across her body, until she finally bows up off the mattress as she comes with a shout.

The feel of her muscles clenching him pulls his release out of him in thick waves. They're both breathing heavy when he lowers himself to the mattress beside her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. It takes him less time to recover, so he holds her close, waiting for her to catch her breath.

"Just as amazing as I remember," she says.

"Not bad for a ninety-year-old man," Steve says.

Maria barks out a laugh. "Ninety my ass. You got an AARP card you want to show me?"

"No, but I do have a Veteran's cap," he says. "The guys that Sam works with gave it to me. It even says I'm a World War Two vet."

"The looks you must get when you wear it," Maria says, shaking her head.

Steve shrugs. "I haven't worn it since they gave it to me. Too many questions."

"And after everything that's happened, I'm sure they're questions you'd rather not answer," she says. She pushes up on an elbow to look at him. "You okay? I mean, after everything. Are you really okay?"

"I finally have you," he says, running the tips of his fingers over her cheek. "I'm good. More than good."

She snuggles back down beside him, yawning unrepentantly. "I hope you don’t mind if I'm totally cliché and fall asleep."

"I don't mind," he says. He presses a kiss to her hair. "You've earned a little more sleep."

"Mmmm," she hums. "Don't go."

"Not going anywhere," he whispers as she relaxes into him.

~o~

The sun is well and truly up by the time Maria wakes again. Steve's been sitting in bed, reading a book on the StarkPad that Tony gave him when he first arrived in 2012. Pepper helped him download some books—sci-fi, historical fiction, some classics that he'd never gotten around to reading before the war.

There's a carafe of coffee beside the bed, and he's absent-mindedly fiddling with the nail as he reads. It's nice, just being here like this. He couldn't have imagined that something so domestic would be the highlight of his day, back before Rebirth. Back then, all he'd wanted to do was serve. Living a quiet life with a wife and children, working a factory job and pretending the war wasn't happening half a world away wasn't important to him. Only the war and doing his part was.

Now, he's grateful for what the war taught him: never take a quiet life for granted, because nothing is promised to you.

Maria stirs and stretches beside him, nuzzling into the hip she's been using for a pillow. "What time is it?"

"A little after eight," he says after checking the time on his tablet. He drops the nail and cups the back of her head, softly scratching into her hair. She hums her contentment. "Want some coffee?"

"Mmm, I thought I smelled coffee," she says. He lets go as she scoots up, settling beside him with the covers pulled up for modesty.

He thinks about reminding her that he's seen it all before, but that feels wrong somehow. Besides, he's already been up and showered, and is now lounging around in sweat pants and a t-shirt bearing Iron Man's familiar face. Tony had made shirts for everyone, one with each of their most recognizable feature. Steve's is the shield, of course. Tony thinks they're hilarious. Steve does too, though he'll never tell Tony that.

"JARVIS is keeping breakfast warm, when you're ready," he says as he hands over the steaming mug.

"I should probably shower," she says. "I imagine I smell ripe, what with spending the night in a barn on top of this morning."

"I don’t know, I kind of like the way you smell," he says, nuzzling into her cheek, pressing a kiss to the sensitive shell of her ear.

"Flatterer," Maria mutters, but she's smiling when she says it.

Steve loops an arm around her, tucking her under his shoulder as she sips her coffee. He picks up the tablet and thumbs the screen, activating it with ease. Maria hums when she sees the screen.

"I didn't know you had a StarkPad. What are you reading?"

"Dune," he says.

"The coming of a savior who doesn't do what anyone expects him to do," she says, nodding. "Sounds familiar."

"Yeah. Tony recommended it. I think he thought it was funny."

Maria chuckles. Something catches her eye, because she reaches out and plucks the nail from his lap.

"What's this?"

He puts the StarkPad on the night stand beside his coffee cup and takes the nail from her. "I found it on the floor of the barn we spent the night in. It was poking me in the back most of the night. I don't know why I took it. Maybe to have something to remember that night by."

He spins it between his fingers for a moment, then bends it into a circle and slips it on the middle finger of her right hand. She holds her hand out, examining the new ring he's made her. At least this reminder won't fade with time, though he's not sure he's going to let the hickey fade anytime soon either.

"Is that okay?" he asks.

Maria smiles at him. "It's perfect."

~o~

Two days later, Steve finds Maria in Tony's lab, going over some of the information they'd gleaned from the Hydra base in Hungary. Steve hangs back for a moment, content to watch her as she moves seamlessly between screens, scanning the information that JARVIS has highlighted for them.

"You going to come in, or just stalk me from the doorway?"

Steve smiles ruefully. "Guess I should know better than to try to sneak up on a spy."

"Probably, but I'll give you a pass this time," she says playfully as he crosses the room to stand beside her.

His eyes scan the information on the screens above them. Not that it makes much sense to him. He's gotten more comfortable in the world he finds himself living in, but there's a big chunk of technological advancement that he's missed by being frozen in ice for 70 years. He's fully capable of catching up, it's just finding the time to do so that's the problem.

"Anything useful?"

The screens shuffle for a moment, until there are a few documents front and center. "These emails are talking about another base where some pretty scary research was being conducted. JARVIS is tracking the origin of the emails, but it's going to take some time. They're routing their email through multiple servers to try to mask the location."

A map appears, red lines crisscrossing the globe at a dizzying rate.

"You have our next target picked out?"

The map with the red lines disappears and another one takes its place, this one with a glowing dot in Argentina. "A lot of former Nazis fled to South America after the war. There's one of particular interest that we think set up a lab in conjunction with Hydra."

"Sounds good," Steve says. "How much research do you need to do?"

"JARVIS has done a lot already," she says. "I just need to go over it all."

"Looks like we're eating in tonight," he says with a smile.

"Ms. Hill, Captain Rogers, I have some data you may wish to see," JARVIS said.

"Already?" Steve asks. "That was fast."

"This is on a different matter," JARVIS says. "Sir asked me to conduct a search and report the results to you."

"A search?" Maria asks. "For what?"

"Bucky," Steve says before JARVIS can answer. "It has to be."

"Why would he—"

"We talked about it, not long after I moved back to New York," Steve says, shrugging. "He asked if I was going to go out looking for Bucky. I said I wasn't sure I'd be able to find him if he didn't want to be found. He may not have been awake and active for most of the last 70 years, but he's got the skills Hydra gave him. Besides, we're a little busy right now."

"Sir asked me to do an image search for Sergeant Barnes, beginning shortly after you were recovered from the river," JARVIS explained. "I have been tracking him through surveillance cameras, mobile phones and social media ever since."

"Social media?" Maria asks, a frown wrinkling her nose.

"Yes," JARVIS says. "You would be surprised how much detail people capture with their mobile phones and then post on the internet."

"Makes sense," Steve says. "So, what's the verdict?"

Yet another map appears in front of them, this one of the Tri-State area, with a smattering of little white dots. "Each dot represents an individual sighting. I should be able to plot an intercept course based on his movements."

"Looks like he's still in the DC area," Maria says. "No idea where he might go?"

Steve shakes his head. "Depends on how much of Bucky's really in there. He could just as easily go to ground if he's feeling threatened at all."

"Thank you, JARVIS," Maria says. "Please keep us informed."

"Of course, Ms. Hill," JARVIS says.

Silence descends on them as Steve contemplates the ramifications of what he's just learned. Getting his best friend back seems too good to be true, but he's not one to give up hope. If there's even a chance he can help Bucky, he's on board to try.

Maria rests her hand on his arm, giving it a light squeeze. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah," he says, smiling at her as he lets out a sigh. "It's just a lot to take in. Getting you back. Maybe getting Bucky back."

"I don't want you to get your hopes up too high," Maria says. "There's no guarantee he's ever going to be the same man you knew."

"Still," Steve says, "I have to try. I'd never be able to live with myself if I didn't at least try."

Maria steps into him, winding her arms around his waist, settling her head on his chest. Steve loops his arms around her shoulders and holds her to him, resting his cheek on her head.

"You're a blessing I didn't think I'd get," he whispers. "You don't know how grateful I am to have you like this."

"I couldn't have imagined my life changing like this when I stepped into that room," she says. "As crazy as it is, I wouldn't change it for anything."

"Neither would I," he says.

Maria pulls back, eyes shining as she looks at him. "I love you, you know?"

"I know," Steve says. "I love you, too."

He presses a kiss to her brow, a small, pleased smile blooming on Maria's face as he does. He settles her more firmly in his arms, content to just be together for the moment. He'd have waited for her for a thousand years, if that's what it took. He's only glad it didn't.

The future stretching out before them is full of uncertainties, but right now, Steve Rogers is exactly where he wants to be.

~Finis


End file.
